After dinner and a few drinks in Omotesando last night, I was heading back along Omotesando-dori just as some work crews were finishing the installation of some large (about 3m tall) contemporary looking lanterns – most likely they are part of the Christmas lights, but I’ll have to go back and check.

Here’s a shot of them, I’m looking towards Meiji-dori, with Omotesando Hills on the right (not the best shot, but you get the idea):

Also, I was happy to get a great shot (I love the light streaks from the passing cars) of the Olafur Eliasson installation in the Louis Vuitton window (one of the many LV branches in Tokyo).

If you’ve passed by and wondered why there were two giant, amber lamps in the LV windows, you should know that they are part of an art project entitled Eye See You commissioned by LV and featured in 350 LV store windows worldwide.

Eliasson, who is probably most well-known for The Weather Project at the Tate, explains the concept behind the installation:

“You can generally say, I think, that there are two types of windows: windows that welcome your transgression, giving you easy access to what lies behind, and windows that function as boundaries. Typically, the windows of luxury goods stores are boundaries; even though you can see through them, you are aware of the inaccessibility of the goods. For Louis Vuitton, I thought it would be interesting to reflect on these boundaries.”

I am not sure how much of the artist’s statement applies in brand-crazy Japan (where it seems that absolutely everyone carries designer bags and every boutique, particularly Louis Vuitton, seems full of shoppers lining up to buy more). Apparently, 40% of Japanese women own at least one Louis Vuitton product, so the goods are not really that “inaccessible” in this country.
However, I think the idea of the window as a boundary is interesting: windows allow one to see in, but windows are also tremendous barriers that can make one feel separate and isolated; the feeling of participation in the scene behind the glass is fleeting, as one is left with an overwhelming feeling of the emptiness that lies beneath the vicarious rush.

How great to see the window looking back at you: